|
This has been a solid few weeks of pure and unrelenting societal hell for all of us. I find myself, almost daily, vacillating from one extreme
to another. On one end of this emotional line of extremes is hope and probably misguided optimism. On the other side is absolute fear and doom.
That said, I always manage to get to hope in measured optimism (so not as extreme) and I do this, actively, to make sure that if everything else is to be taken from us, me, then at least my conscience, my mind, my thoughts and emotions will not be.
The most important poem of my life has always been Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson. It is a ragingly huge lyrical poem, with complex motifs and imagery. The most important part of it, the most necessary part of it is the noted below, which is how I find my center. Perhaps it can do the same for some of you, at least those of you who like poetry anyway:)
...
Come, my friends,
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
|
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
